


as it dawns

by CatharsisFire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28544370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatharsisFire/pseuds/CatharsisFire
Summary: The allure of Amortentia and faded memories of almost lovers.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco Malfoy/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	as it dawns

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: i like to think that smelling amortentia revives memories of the person you love.

“The most powerful love potion in the world,” Hermione began, “it’s rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them. For example, I smell…”

Hermione’s voice carried around the room and soon became a faded memory to [Y/n] as she began to lean closer to the swirling potion in front of her. The smell of something so familiar drew her closer, suffocating her in a cooled warmth and a smell of someone she couldn’t place yet. With a slow, deep breath images flashed through her mind, carrying her away with the smell.

There was a tingle in the air; the kind of static that floats through it when a storm is on the horizon and the lightning is just about to crack through the sky. One where the sky is dark with soft purpose and the leaves hang heavy on the trees, slowly bristling in the wind as the storm draws nearer. She remembers the race of her heart when  _ he _ called her name, drawing her from her thoughts and instantly warming the skin of her neck at the thought of him. She sits up, leaning back onto her arms from her position on the soft grass near the lake. She watches his hair whip around from the wind as he comes closer and before she can reach up and brush her own away from her face to get a better look at him, he’s already near enough to do it for her. It’s startling, the cold nature of his hands brushing her cheeks, and she almost flinches away from it, but there’s a flash in his eyes of something she can’t quite place and the heat has spread from her neck to her face and she’s sure it is entirely visible now. In a second after he pulled back, he’s scolding her for being out knowing it is going to rain soon and how her negligence will get her sick and then there’s something after that but she can’t hear him anymore. All she feels is the remnant of his cold fingers against her cheek as they moved to tuck her hair behind her ear and all she can see is _ him _ against the stark background of the darkening clouds and for a moment she’s dreaming, imagining this scene forever, lost in a world of just the two of them. There is a deep, buried part of her that hopes he doesn’t notice the way she stares at him when the rain suddenly begins to fall and he quickly grabs her hand in his as they run back to the main building of Hogwarts.

And then the decadent scent of undoubtedly expensive cologne; the gentle aroma of darkness and nature and forbidden moments that linger in the back of your mind and this intoxicating burn flooded her lungs and warmed her mind. She feels his cold hands leave hers and the gentle brush of frigid, silver rings searing into the warmth of her face as she looks up at him, both drenched from the rain. And stars above he’s so close she can feel his panting breath against her cheeks, the scent of his cologne is pungent now at this distance and she closes her eyes for a second because if she keeps staring up at him she’ll slip up. Lean up and close the space between the two of them until there’s nothing left. His voice breaks the silence with a gentle command, telling her she needs to get back to her dorm and change out of the wet clothes she’s in, before he whips around and quickly heads the other way; leaving her there with the smoldering feeling of where his hands had held her face and the blistering heat of the blush he’d left on her. She’s swarmed with memories of him until they take her under, drowning her in everything that is  _ him _ . Everything that is  _ Malfoy _ . 

**Bonus Scene:**

Draco had tried his best to remain as far away from that damned cauldron as he could, he had no desire to know what or whom it smelled like, but the smell coming from the swirling potion seemed to travel quickly as soon as the lid was lifted from the cauldron. Within moments the scent of the amortentia flitted through his nostrils and rattled through his lungs, enveloping him in an intense warmth. It smelled so  _ familiar _ .  _ Felt _ so  _ familiar _ . And if he hadn’t been paying attention he’s sure he would’ve missed just  _ who _ it smelled like.

He is wrapped in the heat of the scent and dragged under with a warmth that rushes through him and coats his cheeks. He’s taken back to his first trip to Hogsmeade; the crisp cut of the cold, morning air and he remembers the feeling of gentle, warm hands grasping his freezing ones outside on High Street and the overwhelming drowsily, sweet smell of honey drowning his lungs and coating it like a sticky syrup. And then he sees  _ her _ , like a slideshow playing in his mind. Enveloping his hands and holding them close to her face, breathing into the cocoon of their hands softly to warm his substantially colder ones. He feels the flush spread across his cheeks and tries to bury his face deep into the scarf around his neck, but when she peers up at him through her lashes his heart stalls and then sputters back to life, hammering in his chest, at the smile that stretches across her face. She cajoles him for not wearing gloves and how if he doesn’t take care of himself he’ll catch a cold but her voice is drowned out by the insistent rush of blood in his ears.

There’s a delicate reminder of something soft, like that of freshly done blankets and sweaters, that you would drown yourself in on days like this one and there’s a brief moment where he’s back in the common room. He’s wrapped in the abundance of blankets  _ she _ had brought down from the girls dorm to watch the mermaids, like  _ she  _ does every night. He feels her soft breath against his cheeks and the twist and grasping of her hands into his as she tells him of her family and her home with the little creek behind it. Tells him of the summers she spends laying out on the banks until the early hours of the morning when the dew starts soaking the grass. And suddenly he’s whisked away by the rush of heat in his body because all he can see is  _ her _ and all he can smell is  _ her _ and the overwhelming memories of  _ [Y/n] _ rush around his mind and he’s drowning in her.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always welcome!!!


End file.
